Wild Knight (Midnight Empire: The Tower #1)(3)

“What did you do?” Fergal demanded.

“Mongrel, stay.” The dog stilled and I held out my hand. “I’ll take that jar of honey now.”

Fergal’s eyes bulged. “Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t give it to you. I don’t have it.” He stumbled over his words, finally starting to comprehend the situation.

I clucked my tongue. “Fergal, aren’t you in enough trouble already? Let’s not drag this out.”

“I sold it.”

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Why, oh why did they insist on keeping up the charade when the jig was very clearly up?

I leaned down to address the creature. “Mongrel, when’s the last time you ate?”

Three mouths began to salivate at the same time. Acidic slobber dripped from the jowls, forcing Fergal to take another step backward.

“Hold on,” he said. “I’ll get it.”

I couldn’t see past Fergal to know what he was getting, but every fiber of my being told me it wasn’t what I came for.

Damn it, Fergal. I was trying to do this the easy way.

Metal flashed across the black backdrop.

Oh, well. I gave it my best shot. I would’ve preferred to handle this without help, but as I didn’t have a weapon, I commandeered one.

“Mongrel, charge,” I said.

The beast toppled Fergal. The sword flew to the right and clattered on the hard surface.

“Stay. No killing.”

Mongrel kept her former owner pinned to the floor while I skirted them both. Nudging the sword out of his reach with my boot, I sauntered deeper into Fergal’s lair. A few pots and pans. A canteen. A portable kerosene stove. A bedroll.

“Not much of a home,” I said. Not that I was one to talk. My flat’s most significant feature was indoor plumbing. Then again, we weren’t vampires nor did we work for them. We didn’t have the luxury of choice.

It was only when I shifted the bedroll that I found it. Jackpot. As the most valuable item in this mess, he’d wisely kept it hidden.

With the jar of honey in hand, I returned to the spot where Fergal was whimpering on the floor and rolling his head left to right to avoid the acidic spray of the beast’s slobber.

“My client would like me to pass along a message. If you ever show your face at poker night again, you’ll be leaving without your legs.”

Fergal glowered at the creature on top of him. “I’ll kill you for this, you worthless mutt.”

I cut a sideways glance at the dog. Apparently I’d be leaving with more than a jar of golden honey. When possible, I released a creature I’d won over to my side. I had no interest in becoming the Snow White of Britannia City. I couldn’t ignore Fergal’s threat though. It wasn’t fair to the dog.

I patted the creature’s right head. “Come on, cutie. I’ll get you a nice milk bone when we get out of here.”

The beast stayed put.

“Sorry. Three milk bones.”

The beast stepped off Fergal and trotted along beside me.

“Don’t even think about grabbing your sword,” I called without bothering to turn around.

I made my way to the exit with my new companion. “I have to ask—how do you maintain your balance with those heads?”

Three heads shifted to look at me. Impressive physiology happening there.

“I can’t call you Mongrel,” I said. “It’s a terrible word to call anyone.”

On the other hand, I didn’t have a right to name her and I couldn’t keep her. I felt torn. My flat wasn’t big enough to accommodate a creature of her size, but if I released her now, she’d likely return to the tunnel if only because she was accustomed to it. If that happened, Fergal would make good on his threat. I couldn’t risk it.

“Come on. I’ll find you a temporary place to stay.” I strode up the frozen escalator steps that led to the surface. “I bet you’ve never been to the Circus.”





2





Thanks to well-preserved buildings and its close proximity to other sections of the city, Piccadilly Circus was a busy part of Britannia City. A few heads turned as I crossed the junction with a three-headed dog trotting beside me. We were accustomed to monster sightings around here, but not necessarily accustomed to seeing them behave like canine companions.

I stopped at the security desk in the building known as the Pavilion. The Pavilion dated back to the 1850s and housed a music hall before it became a shopping arcade. It fell into ruin after the Great Eruption until the Knights of Boudica claimed it as their headquarters. We weren’t the only knights in the city, but because we were the only organization that was all female, we were the last call for the desperate, the poor, and the discreet. We took the jobs nobody else wanted because nobody else wanted us. I wasn’t sure when breasts became a determining factor in how well someone could wield a blade, but I recognized the valuable service we provided. People who hired us were lucky to have us.

The security guard took one look at me and shook her head. Treena was used to seeing me in one of three states: moody, bloody, or accompanied by a newfound companion.

I feigned ignorance. “What?”

“One day I expect to see a parade of rats behind you.”

“No thanks. Not a fan of rodents.”